


Helping Hand

by mickeym



Category: Popslash
Genre: Hand Job, Kink, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-30
Updated: 2002-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris wants something from JC and lends a hand to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hand

JC glanced over his shoulder when the door opened, frowned when Chris stuck his head in the bathroom. "Uh. Chris. Kinda--y'know. Busy?" He waved in the general direction of the toilet then turned away to finish unzipping his pants, but didn't relax until the door closed again. And it wasn't that he was a prude or anything; he'd seen all the guys, they'd all seen him -- and yeah. They'd shared bathrooms and stuff before. But--if he didn't have to, he preferred not to. Not to take a leak, anyway.

He jumped -- jumped -- for fuck's sake, when arms circled his waist, and a warm, sturdy body pressed against his. "Chris--what?"

"Shh." Chris petted his belly through his shirt, then stroked the skin just above his waistband before skimming lightly over his fly and pulling the zipper tab down. "Gonna help. Want--well. Yeah. This."

JC shivered. "This is weird as fuck, man." He really needed to piss, and Chris wasn't--helping. "I can't--"

"Yes, you can. Just. Take it out. Do your thing, man." He breathed against JC's neck and JC felt the prickle of goosebumps. "C'mon, day's a-wastin', C."

It wasn't just that easy...didn't Chris _get_ that? Because, yeah. How often did he just whip his dick out, and piss, with an audience? On purpose? The answer would pretty much be 'never'. Sharing urinals didn't count, because that was how that was set up. JC shook his head and reached to pull his zip back up.

"I'll just, um. Wait."

"Don't be a pussy, Chasez. Pull it out and piss." Chris leaned in closer and JC wondered idly if he was standing on tiptoes, or what, because really--was Chris tall enough to do that? From behind? JC didn't think so. He startled when a warm wet something -- _Chris' tongue? Is that his tongue?_ \-- touched the back of his neck. "I'm gonna help you with more than I'd intended, in a minute."

"Chris--" He didn't know what to do. Or say. Part of this was turning him on, a little, the rest of it was freaking him the hell out. In a major way. _Singer stalked by his bandmate in bathroom. Details at eleven_. He shifted uncomfortably, then shifted again. Chris moved with him. "Please, man. I need to go."

"I know you do." The words were brushed in whispers across the back of his neck, and his skin prickled with sensation. "Want...to watch. Touch. Help. C'mon, C." Chris nuzzled the last words, mouth working gently against the side of JC's neck. He heard a soft sigh but that couldn't be him, could it? "C'mon, dude."

Warm fingers teased into the opening of his pants, stroked him through soft cotton, then delved further in. When Chris touched his cock, he heard the low whimper, felt it in his throat as it vibrated, then left. The cool air against his warm skin was a shock; Chris' fingers, warm and sure, were more of one.

He closed his eyes, surprised that he wasn't protesting more, shocked that he liked the feel of Chris' hand on himself.

"I--you. Um." He swallowed, and tried to breathe, not even sure he _had_ to go any more. His body was telling him other things now, more interesting things. Like, he _really_ liked Chris' hand on him. And, that pressure. Just enough pressure. And oh, yeah. Erection time. Chris gave him one stroke, not enough, just a tease, then squeezed.

"Piss, then we'll talk." A sharp, sweet sting of teeth grabbed him, and he whimpered and put his hands on Chris' arms, braced himself. Eyes closed tight, because no way, no how could he open them now. This wasn't real, wasn't reality, he wasn't sure what the fuck it was, except hotter than anything he'd ever remotely considered -- and did that make him, or Chris the more twisted one? JC wasn't sure he wanted to know.

It took a concentrated effort, and really, he'd never had to work so hard in his life to take a piss. The pressure was fierce now, and when Chris took one hand and pressed hard right where his bladder was, JC hissed in a quick breath and shuddered. It helped, though, he relaxed, felt the warmth spread through him, and then he was pissing, Chris' hand warm and sure on his dick, Chris' breath hot and damp on his neck.

"I knew this would totally rock," Chris' voice was hoarse in his ear, lips brushing against him. JC groaned, shook briefly in his arms. "You're just--god, C. Yeah." The pressure on his dick increased, Chris squeezing harder, tighter, and JC moaned softly, felt himself throb within that tight tunnel. He was harder now, cock swelling the longer Chris held on. He was done pissing, but Chris wasn't done with _him_, he realized. That thought made him shudder again.

"Chris, god," he rocked forward, wanting to slide hot, hard flesh through the tight, slightly damp tunnel of Chris' hand. "Please, man--"

"Oh, yeah. You totally rock." Chris shifted his weight and JC leaned back, cradled against him while Chris stroked him a little faster, harder, his hand squeezing and pressing. Heat flared inside JC and spread outward, glowing red and orange, pulsing with each stroke against his cock. "Mmm. Yeah." JC wasn't surprised when Chris rubbed against him, dick hard behind snug denim, catching perfectly in the crack of his ass, nothing but thin cotton there.  His breath caught in his chest with the sudden increase in heat, and he gasped, bucked forward, backward, caught between the two sensations.

"Please--"

"Uhhuh," Chris grunted against his neck, jerking him faster, grinding into him. JC growled low and gripped Chris' arms tighter, harder, felt sweat gather at the nape of his neck. Chris licked it off, bit at the tender skin there. JC shifted, rocking backward hard, meeting Chris grind for grind. "Close, dude. So...close--"

"Mm, yeah, god--" He wanted to bend over then and beg Chris to do--something. Fuck him, lick him, bite him, what_ever_ just something to increase the sensation. Something to knock him off the precipice he was dangling on, and over into the abyss. He wanted to feel the fire flare up into a firestorm, and see red and black dance behind his closed eyes. Chris bit him again, fingers squeezing hard, and each pulse of his heart echoed in his cock, raced through his body, sounded like a drum in his ears. JC groaned and shoved forward, felt himself let go.  He came in hot spurts over Chris' fingers, felt a flare of damp heat against him when he rocked backward again. Heard Chris' low cry ring in his ear and mix with the drumpulse throbbing there.

"Oh...god," he panted softly, body still thrumming, hips still edging forward and back as tiny aftershocks rolled through him. "Chris--"

"Umm. Yeah." Warm, sticky fingers slowly released him, and JC blinked, felt the loss keenly. He jerked his pants up, turned slowly.

"Um."

"Yeah." Chris stared at him a moment, then leaned forward and kissed him, hard, quick, nasty, then backed out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed again behind him.

JC stared at the door for a long time before he was able to make himself open it.

~fin~


End file.
